THE FIRST LESSON
Jim Zub
Harmony, we seek.
The swaying stream of existence brings shifting tides of chaos and order in measures that can never be fully understood, only recognized and confirmed.
Reality, we accept.
A patient agreement with existence does not mean one cannot influence or improve one’s position in the universe. Acknowledgment does not equal passivity.
The future, we behold.
Meditation is not a body at rest or a stagnant state of selfishness. It is the diffusion of self, a desire to reach further than the physical bounds that anchor us so we may attempt to experience the wider patterns at play.
This moment of oneness paints itself upon an infinite canvas. It is a fleeting concordance between the physical world and spiritual senses that look beyond.
These thoughts and many others echoed through the energy that surrounds and binds the being known as Yoda.
A name. An identity. A shell of crude matter housing a form set upon this sharpened point of time and all the points preceding it.
The nine-hundred-year-old Jedi Master had come to Dagobah for rest and reflection. Living here was a way to carry out the fleeting time he had left before joining the spirits of his enlightened predecessors in the Force.
In the past Yoda may have occasionally used his cane to trick students into believing he was frail, but now it had become a necessary tool to keep his footing in weaker moments. His fighting form, long behind him, replaced with even greater inner strength, enlightenment, and acceptance.
Acceptance of his past mistakes and foolish assumptions. An acknowledgment of the swaying stream and his place within it.
Yet there would always be more to learn.
Feel the Force and go beyond.
Sitting outside his meager hut, introspective and silent, Yoda let his awareness swirl out in all directions, connecting him to the diverse biome that was Dagobah. He had carried out this mental exercise countless times throughout his years spent in exile, yet each time experiencing it felt engaging and new.
The ground was soft and damp. The air thick and hazy.
The seasons were in transition on this planet of marshy mist. In this moment he felt each new sprout and rotting root.
A cacophony of sounds near and far signaled a menagerie of creatures carrying out the delicate arrangement of their unfettered instincts.
A spade-headed smooka dragged its snout through mud in search of food. Yoda smelled the thick soil as it shifted to and fro beneath his nose.
A skittering nharpira built a loamy nest to keep its impending young well hidden. Yoda felt soft clumps of cool soil in his hands.
A ferocious dragonsnake hunted for a meal worthy of its grand gullet. Yoda heard the rumbling growl within his own throat.
Yoda perceived these beasts and more in ever-widening waves of awareness. He knew he was not at the center of this ethereal experience. He was just one link in an eternal and immeasurable web built and broken among the stars.
Broken?
Why broken?
That vile thought dropped into the stillness of the self, a jagged uneven thing with a strange gravity of its own that drew in tiny motes of fear and anger, disturbing the stream…
…A flash of darkness…
…A disturbance in the Force.
Yoda could not remember the last time something had broken his concentration in such a manner. Was it a sign of inner doubt or an old fear he’d managed to keep hidden within?
No. This was an outside presence.
A presence he had not felt in many years.
Potent and prophetic. Foreign, yet familiar.
A Skywalker.
Obi-Wan’s spirit had contacted Yoda years earlier. His old friend spoke of Anakin’s child and hope for the future of the Jedi, but the old Master assumed he meant Leia. Yoda relished the chance to help her find her place in the universe and potential within the Force. But this was another.
Luke, the brash.
Luke, the reckless.
Luke, the echo of his father’s yearning need to control that which he could not understand.
And Luke was now on Dagobah.
The boy arrived in a ship ill suited for a lengthy stay, carrying barely enough equipment to sustain him for a month or more. It was a perfect microcosm of his shortsighted approach to life and danger, proof he would not have the restraint required to fulfill the arduous training of a Jedi.
Courageous, but foolhardy.
Resolute, but woefully unprepared.
Yoda could already sense Luke’s mind was a jumble of excitement and anticipation. The boy’s thoughts raced with assumptions about who he would encounter on this strange planet.
A Jedi Master.
A warrior.
A being of great stature and even greater power.
Most amusing, this first lesson shall be.
With a sigh, the old Master stood up, returning his awareness solely to the frail form that housed it. He could already sense the discord Luke brought in his wake, unsettling the swaying stream and all its inhabitants.
The smooka fled its feeding ground.
The nharpira abandoned its new lair.
The dragonsnake attempted to eat the boy’s astromech companion but, upon finding it a poor fit for digestion, furiously vomited the droid out of the water and into the trees.
Carefully moving through the swamp while staying hidden beneath the fog, Yoda soon spotted the boy and his droid unpacking their supplies. Even though the droid was caked with algae, dirt, and stomach fluid, its appearance and familiar blips were still quite recognizable.
R2-D2.
Of course the boy had Anakin’s old droid with him. Such cycles of fate no longer surprised the nine-hundred-year-old Jedi.
Yoda watched Luke’s gaze wander as he inspected the marshy environment while cracking open a metal container filled with travel rations. At the same time, he absentmindedly chatted aloud to R2, voicing his concerns.
“It’s really a strange place to find a Jedi Master…”
R2-D2 responded with high-pitched whistles and warbles of reassurance.
“This place gives me the creeps.”
He hesitated.
“Still…There’s something familiar about this place.”
Place, place, place…Repetition and small-mindedness. The boy saw only the surface of things. His perception of reality still so limited. He was less than a Padawan regardless of his age.
R2-D2 tried to comfort Luke with more chirping sounds even while his sensors failed to notice as Yoda quietly perched on the root of a nearby gnarltree.
“I don’t know…I feel like—”
It was time for the first lesson to begin.
“Feel like what?”
Luke turned with a start and swiftly drew his blaster, leveling it at the frail-looking creature in robes sitting in front of him.
“Like we’re being watched.”
This would be a test for the boy. A way to see how he reacted to the unknown and unusual.
“Away put your weapon! I mean you no harm!”
Luke hesitated as Yoda continued.
“I am wondering, why are you here?”
Luke slowly lowered his blaster but kept his gaze locked on Yoda.
“I’m looking for someone.”
“Looking? Found someone you have I would say ~hrmmm!”
A shrill cackle escaped from the old Master’s throat, and Luke smirked as the amusing sound pierced the dull muffle of the marsh. The boy didn’t seem predisposed to violence, in any case.
“Right.”
“Help you I can, yes ~hrmmm!”
Luke looked unimpressed. Assumptions guided all his actions.
“I don’t think so. I’m looking for a great warrior.”
“Oh! Great warrior! W’ohhh~!”
Yoda cackled again as he pulled himself down from the root to get a closer look at his impetuous and immature new student.
“Wars not make one great.”
The boy did not have the hotheaded anger and confusion that poured forth from Anakin the Fallen. Nor did he have the calm and resolute countenance of his mother, Padmé Amidala.
Luke Skywalker’s form had yet to be set in one mold or another. His glory or downfall were yet to be defined.
Would the boy come to understand harmony, reality, and the future?
Could he bring balance to the Force?
Yoda would try to show him a way toward the light.
The old Master hesitated, realizing his own momentary doubt.
No, he would not try.
There is no try.